Page 109 of Path of the Dark
A small red fox streaked in through the gates and bounded across the square, skidding to a halt before them.
And then, red fur gave way to smooth pale skin. A young woman with wild auburn hair rose to her feet in front of them.
Breathing hard, Lilia swept her gaze over the group. “Dain,” she gasped. “Have you seen him?”
All of those standing before her knew that Lilia was a shifter. Even so, seeing her change in front of them was a shock. Ryana gaped, taken aback by her friend’s sudden appearance. Lilia stood there stark-naked. The firelight on the walls burnished her smooth skin.
The king didn’t answer. He merely stared.
Lilia’s features tightened, her brown eyes glistening now. “Have any of you seen Dain?” she asked again, her voice rising. “I can’t find him anywhere.”
“He’s alive.” Asher was the first of the group to answer her. “He’s gone ahead with the rest of the king’s men … to make safe The Swallow Keep. You’ll find him there.”
Relief flared in Lilia’s eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered.
And with that, the young woman shifted again—shrinking in size, her face transforming into a long muzzle, fur sprouting—until the fox stood before them once more. Before any of them could say another word, the vixen turned and fled across the square toward The Spiral Way.
Asher cleared his throat and caught the king’s eye. “Your Highness … can I tend to the prince now?”
Nathan tore his gaze from where Lilia had disappeared, blinking. “Aye,” he said roughly. “Go ahead then.”
The night stretched out, eerily quiet after the turmoil of battle. The sky had cleared overhead, the storm clouds passing on, and for the first time all night the full moon sailed into view. Ninia stared up at it.
She stood in the midst of Veldoras’s Great Square, a woolen cloak wrapped around her. It wasn’t a cold night, but shock had settled over Ninia, making her feel chilled. Most folk were trying to get some rest after the battle, yet Ninia couldn’t sleep. She needed to be here, alone with her thoughts—and the dead.
Piles of corpses lay around her: enchanters and soldiers, their bodies twisted, charred, and broken. The sight made the chill that had settled over her drill into her bones.
I’m responsible for this.
And yet she knew that not all of the dead heaped around the square had fallen under the onslaught of shadow creatures. Gael and his enchanters had torn through the Rithmar ranks, and if it hadn’t been for Elias and Ryana’s intervention, they’d have finished Ninia too. After Gael had thrown her across the square, she’d collided with a stone wall and lain stunned for a while.
She owed Elias and Ryana her life.
Asher had tended to Elias, brought him back from the brink, before he’d been lifted onto the litter and carried up to The Swallow Keep. Ryana was with him now—she’d refused to leave his side.
A smile curved Ninia’s mouth. She’d done the right thing letting Elias go that evening in The Royal City. Nathan had been furious with her for following her instincts, yet she’d known it was the right thing to do.
A man could change the course of his life; even a man who’d grown up in the shadow of Reoul of Anthor.
Ninia’s gaze slid across the shadowy square. The fires on the walls still burned. The dead lay strewn there too—but all of them would be left till morning. It would take many days to clean up the city. And as Ninia took in her surroundings, her attention came to a rest on the Altar of Umbra.
It sat on the eastern edge of the Great Square, its obsidian surface, inscribed with ancient runes, gleaming in the firelight.
Ninia grew still as she gazed upon it, her breathing slowing. It didn’t surprise her that such carnage had taken place under its shadow. The Altar was a stain, an evil scar that that left its imprint on every settlement in The Four Kingdoms.
After Valgarth’s fall, folk had tried to pull them down but to no avail. Enchanters had tried to destroy the altars too—but the Shadow King had cast a powerful enchantment upon them. And so, even centuries later, they remained.
A reminder of the darkness.
Ninia raised her hands and turned them over. The Stars of Darkness and Light winked up at her from her outstretched palms.
She was the only one since Valgarth to wield both the Light and the Dark. Maybe she could achieve what others couldn’t?
Moving across the square, she carefully picked her way through the sea of bodies till she stood around ten yards from the Altar of Umbra. And then she gathered both the Light and the Dark. Shadows rushed in around her, and the braziers atop the walls roared high into the sky. The guards nearby shifted, one or two of them exclaiming in surprise as enchantment shattered the stillness.
Ninia raised her hands high and then swept them in an arc, focusing both the Light and the Dark upon the huge black pillar before her.
Fire and shadow converged, hammering into the altar.
A hollow cracking sound echoed over the square, and then the Altar of Umbra groaned. Ninia had never heard stone make a noise like that—it almost sounded as if it was in pain.
A heartbeat later the obsidian pillar toppled, crashing down into the square.
